On a moonless night, January the 13th, Waterman’s Community Center in North Haven is virtually empty 15 minutes before showtime. The poster has showtime listed as 7:30, and by then, the John Wulp Theater is nearly full. Ranging in age from 3 to 70, the crowd has shown up to root for the home team: The Toughcats.
Born on the stage in Waterman’s, The Toughcats are Jacob Greenlaw, Colin Gulley and Joe Nelson. In the summer of 2004, never having played together before, the trio decided to assemble an impromptu set for the Chris Brown Jr. Memorial concert. They liked what happened.
“Joe and I had played a little together before,” Gulley says, but nothing formal. Greenlaw hadn’t played with either. He was present to play with his band Circus Folk. Nelson was prepared to do a solo set, and Gulley was busy pulling the show together. Having seen Nelson live on Vinalhaven earlier in the summer, Greenlaw suggested they play Joe’s original “Don’t Lose Hold,” still present in The Toughcats rotation. The rest of the set included covers like Beck’s “Row Boat” and standard deviation jams like Gulley’s “Bluegrass Breakdown.”
Coming from a variety of musical influences, The Toughcats draw from a wide data set that offers a lot of flexibility. Citing notables from indie and classic rock, newgrass and reggae, they even mention the impact of Tom Waits, The Flaming Lips and Devo. Basically, they are tapping into a gumbo of popular 20th century styles that allows them to make something uniquely their own.
Consequently, The Toughcats are not easily categorized, nor would they like to be. Greenlaw is the drummer, his kit including a kick drum made from a suitcase, and he is known to employ the body of Nelson’s National Steel as a percussive devise during live renditions of “Helicopter.” Gulley plays banjo, mandolin and fiddle. Nelson plays his National Steel guitar and ukulele, occasionally thumping on a washtub bass.
This is the third year in a row that the group has played Waterman’s in January. Each time they devise some spectacle to make a Waterman’s show unique. This year was no exception. The introduction featured Asa Pingree’s tongue-in-cheek PA voice-over, while the band posed in a mobile vignette. Backlit by a luminescent, deep blue stage curtain, The Toughcats dollied from stage left to stage right in a punky dory while holding high dim lanterns. It was reminiscent of George Washington crossing the Delaware or a B movie version of Andrew Lloyd Weber’s “Phantom.” Then, they pose to receive a suitcase lowered from the heavens. They are, like the audience, looking for a little levity and light in the midst of winter.
While one might assume that off season life on an island might provide endless free time to practice and perfect one’s art, it is not necessarily so. True, life is a little slower and quieter here at first glance, but these guys are busy. They are currently employed in carpentry, house painting and woodcutting, juggling their musical life on the side. In the winter of 2005, Joe was commuting up to North Haven to practice and set up shows after long days of offshore lobstering out past Seal Island. Greenlaw, meanwhile, was in college.
Island life has helped them, though. Aside from the loyal island-connected fans that show up at mainland shows — as in recent gigs at Bowdoin College and Portland’s Space gallery — employers here are a little more flexible. Greenlaw, who has been painting this winter, says, “If I have to miss work for a show, Ed [his boss] is really cool with it. He understands.” A bank job in suburbia might not allow for that. Another ingredient is less tangible. “Island life,” Jake continues, “gives us inspiration for the songs we write.”
The challenges of being a band living on an island include transportation. Not only does one have to manage the ferry queue to shuffle vehicles on and off the island; it’s important to watch the weather. “We’ve gone over days ahead of time to make a show,” adds Gulley. In December, southwest winds were forecast that threatened the late boat before the Bowdoin gig. After studying the marine forecast, and making a quick assessment, The Toughcats hopped on the middle boat in order to avoid being marooned. This is a familiar tune for islanders.
Despite this rural isolation, The Toughcats are beginning to reach a wider audience. “The internet is changing the whole scene,” says Gulley. “If you want, you can record in your living room, put it on-line and sell it on-line. You don’t necessarily need record labels. The whole face of [the music industry] has changed.” Of course, signing to a label would be nice. Their second effort, “Piñata,” was recorded at Waterman’s and is available locally and on-line. Kramer, a musician and producer who has worked with such luminaries as the Butthole Surfers, Galaxie 500, Sonic Youth and the Mark Morris Dance Group, cooked up the master mix.
In the coming months, The Toughcats are scheduled to play over 20 shows. Among the stops is a gig in Bradford, Vermont with Tony Trischka, a renowned banjo player. The band is also scheduled to play in Pittsburgh, Boston and New York City, not to mention David Dye’s popular Philadelphia venue The World Café. Recently, Maine Public Broadcasting’s Sara Willis played The Toughcats on her program “In Tune by Ten,” and Karen Doherty broadcast The Toughcats live from the WERU studio during her “On the Wing” Monday spot. For that one, students and teachers hovered around computers that fed the live stream right into the North Haven Community School.
This is only the beginning. Earlier this fall, the band members collaborated with Courtney Naliboff, the North Haven Community School’s music teacher, for a ballet she conceptualized around the band Deerhoof’s album “Milkman.” A DVD from that event is forthcoming. As for recording — “We’ve got a bunch of newer songs and hope to put out something for the fall,” says Nelson. But it’s the live gigs that give them their energy. Nelson adds, “That’s what we get the most enjoyment out of, playing live together.” Judging by the grooving three-year-olds and the toe-tapping adults in Waterman’s, the same holds true for the audience.
During the middle of their set, after Naliboff had accompanied The Toughcats on Theremin, a movie screen scrolled down. Two men, dressed in suits and acting awkwardly stiff, take seats on either side of the stage. As each one nods off in what seems to be the dull office monotony of life, their dreams are broadcast. Like dreams, the scenes were both ordinary and odd, and don’t do particularly well in the retelling, though they elicited energetic guffaws. The band continued a fluid jam during the screening, one of the musical highlights of the night. One can hear hints of the bluegrass greats and Django Reinhardt, and yet not. A loose, danceable beat holds the instrumental within tight bounds.
The set ends, and The Toughcats wave goodbye, climbing a riser to exit through the heavenly sent suitcase. Children stare agape at this old vaudeville-like gag, the glow of stage lights in their eyes. With a rousing ovation, they return for an unexpected encore, re-emerging from the suitcase. As the crowd quiets, there is a moment of tuning, and Greenlaw says, “Man, it sure was hot in that suitcase.” “Sure was,” says Gulley. Nelson just smiles. Then Greenlaw, in his best Radio Corporation of America voice says, “Well boys, whaddya say we play one for those nice people out there?”
They finish the night with an island anthem, “Out on the Ocean.” When the house lights come up, a curious 11-year-old is ecstatic. “How did they fit in that suitcase?” he wants to know.
Ah, stagecraft.